


Aliens Don’t Celebrate Christmas

by sapphire_child



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M, Gun Violence, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Pete's World, Pete's World Torchwood, Serious Injuries, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-03
Updated: 2009-06-17
Packaged: 2019-01-27 23:18:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12592760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire_child/pseuds/sapphire_child
Summary: It’s 10.5 and Rose’s first Christmas together in the alt!verse – and what would the festive season be without Ten's unlucky tuxedo and an invasion of rogue aliens at the Torchwood Christmas party?





	1. Chapter 1

Rose was just putting the finishing touches on her make up when she heard the padding of hurried footsteps coming into her bedroom.

“Doctor?” she called out hopefully as she expertly stroked mascara onto her upper lashes. “That you?”

“Rose,” he sounded plaintive and not a little bit mortified. Rose paused. “What is _this_?”

Setting down her mascara wand, Rose peered obediently around the bathroom door. The Doctor was standing there, his long arms full of plastic garment bag and his lip curled into something that was halfway between a pout and digusted curl. “A suit?” she guessed.

“It’s a _tuxedo_ ,” the Doctor said, still looking highly disgruntled. “Why is it a tuxedo?”

“Welll...” Rose leant up against the doorframe, crossed her legs at the ankle. “It’s for the Christmas party tonight. Well.” she grinned suddenly. “Unless you’d rather go naked?”

The Doctor looked unimpressed. “The Torchwood Christmas party is _black tie_?”

“Well...it’s more formal then black tie.” Rose said carelessly. “It’s kind of like a ball but not quite.”

The Doctor grimaced. “I don’t...fancy tuxedos much.”

“Oh.” Rose wilted slightly. “I just...well I thought you’d look smart in a tux is all. You wear suits most of the time anyway so...don’t you like it?”

“What? No! No, no, no it’s not that I don’t like it.” he said hastily. “It’s got really...well it’s beautifully made – excellent tailoring and everything. It’s just...”

“Just what?” Rose prompted when he trailed off.

The Doctor grimaced again. “Tuxedos are sort of...unlucky for me.”

Rose paused and then burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny!” the Doctor insisted, definitely pouting now. “The first time I wore one in this body you and I ran into the Cybermen, and then there was Professor Lazarus with Martha and _then_ there was the time I was on a replica of the Titanic which nearly crashed into Buckingham Palace...”

“Oh go on. You don’t need to be wearing a tuxedo to get yourself into trouble.” Rose teased, coming into the room properly and folding her arms smugly in front of him. “You’re worse than me for attracting danger. Don’t blame it on what you’re wearing.”

“But it’s every single time!” he wailed before swallowing nervously, eyes darting about as though he expected aliens to come storming out of the walls. “Rose I think I’m...I’m tuxedo jinxed.”

Sighing, Rose took the garment bag from his hands and dumped it on the bed before putting her hands on his face and forcing him to look at her.

“Doctor.” she said seriously. “I promise that nothing bad is gonna happen. And,” she added, trying to keep a straight face. “You’re not tuxedo jinxed.”

The Doctor stared at her.

“You’re teasing me.” He accused her, looking pained.

“A little bit yeah.” Rose said, her composure slipping and a smile creeping out.

“Look, you can’t promise me that nothing bad will happen.” the Doctor said, only slightly hysterically. “We’re going to the Christmas party for the world’s largest alien agency. Us! With us there we’ll be lucky if there isn’t a full scale invasion!”

“ _Or_ we might have a really nice time drinking champagne and dancing and getting to tease Marion about having to wear a dress,” Rose told him and the Doctor blinked.

“Marion? Wearing a dress?” he said, awed at the mere thought of Rose’s co-worker wearing anything except for her customary tailored pants and button down shirt. Marion was of the opinion that skirts were one the most horrible garments ever invented and she was very proud of proclaiming that she hadn’t worn one since she was seven and a half years old. “What’s wrong with her? Is she sick?”

“Nope.” Rose grinned at him. “She lost a bet.”

“Oh but that’s brilliant!” the Doctor said, getting excited. “Marion Reed in a dress!”

Rose ruffled his hair fondly. “Just don’t tease her too much.” she warned. “You know she’s got a sharper tongue than you do.”

“She does not.” the Doctor said indignantly. “I’m _much_ ruder than she is. I inherited the world’s best list of insults from Donna Noble herself! Well...the best insults of two worlds I suppose I should say.”

Smiling gently, Rose parcelled the tuxedo back into his arms.

“Go on.” she nudged him gently towards the door. “Go get yourself dressed. I’ve just got to finish doing my face and then I’ll be with you.”

The Doctor hesitated once more at the door and Rose sighed.

“Stop worrying.” she told him firmly. “You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”

That got a smile out of him, albeit a slightly rueful one and he chuckled lightly as he disappeared down the corridor to his own room.

~*~

  
“Don’t die.” the Doctor whimpered. “Oh god – please don’t die like this...”

He was trying desperately not to panic but Rose was gulping air into her lungs like she was drowning and despite the pressure of his hands the blood beneath her was still spreading and he’d never been so terrified in all of his days and his adrenal glands were working overtime and...and...

This was so much worse than he remembered it being with Jenny. They had been different bullets, cleaner and more efficient. They always left little to no blood – most of the real damage was done inside the body. The primitive lead slugs that 21st century Torchwood use have an unfortunate habit of ripping and tearing and causing a lot of mess and blood.

What made it worse was the fact that it was an accident – just a stupid accident that could have been avoided. Taqworps were generally a peaceable species and if they’d sought out Torchwood they were probably there to ask them for help. But then, crashing the Christmas function of the number one alien department in the world toting large gun-looking-things was probably not the cleverest of ideas. Not that foresight would do them much good now – the poor creatures had all been either riddled with bullets or dragged off for questioning.

Normally he would be helping Torchwood out, negotiating and translating, using his expertise and knowledge to help the Taqworps be on their way. But from the moment that Rose fell he had been holding her and he wasn’t really planning on letting go anytime soon. Somehow she was still staring determinedly up at him – she’s nothing if not stubborn, his Rose, and it’ll take more than a bullet to stop her. He tells her so, voice creaking and her lips try to smile before she finally passes out, from the pain or the blood loss, he can’t tell.

It’s only then does he allow himself to lose it.

~*~

  
He paces the corridor with his hands running stickily through his hair. He’s ignored all offers to sit down or go and clean himself up (who cares if his bloody tux gets ruined? Christ!) and he’s so sick with adrenalin that he couldn’t stop moving if he tried. And so he’s pacing (something he’s very good at) and pushing his hands through his hair over and over again and waiting, waiting, waiting for something to happen or for a doctor to come and tell him that Rose is alright, that she’s not alright, that...

“Doctor!”

He whirls on the spot, nearly rolling his ankle in his haste and he never thought he’d be so relieved to see Jackie Tyler in his life but as soon as he sees her running down the corridor he’s rushing towards her and as they collide he crushes her into a desperate embrace. Her touch grounds him, brings the whole horrible night spiralling to a halt and he’s crying, great wracking sobs dragging from his chest, everything finally hitting him with the force of an emotional sledge hammer.

“S'all right.” she squeezes him and then begins to rock instinctively from side to side. “S’all right. I’ve got you.”

He gasps against her shoulder, fingers clenching and unclenching spasmodically as he struggles to control the completely overwhelming sensation of human emotions. For her part, Jackie just holds him. Once upon a time this would have been inconceivable for him, to launch himself weeping onto this woman but times have changed (oh yes) and so has he.

Eventually his stranglehold on her loosens and his sobs lessen to hiccupping breaths and Jackie steers him firmly to a plastic seat.

“What happened?” she demands, even as she begins to blot at the blood on his face and hands with the pack of wipes she always carries in her purse for Tony’s sticky little-boy hands.

“It was an accident.” his voice creaks and breaks, an octave and a half higher than normal. “The party got crashed by some Taqworp’s. One of the Torchwood crew lost it and started shooting and Rose...Rose...”

He breaks off abruptly there and Jackie pulls him against her quickly. There’s a fumble of fingertips on the back of one of his hands as she takes hold of it and squeezes and this simple action is enough to set him off again. With his head on her shoulder and his hand held tightly in hers, the Doctor grits his teeth against his tears and waits helplessly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s 10.5 and Rose’s first Christmas together in the alt!verse – and what would the festive season be without Ten's unlucky tuxedo and an invasion of rogue aliens at the Torchwood Christmas party?

She’s lost a lot of blood, her right scapula has been quite badly damaged by one of the bullets and so have several ribs – but apart from that it’s mostly soft tissue damage and more than this, she’s alive and they can see her as soon as she’s been settled into her room. He can hardly stand still for waiting but Jackie has a tight grip on his hand so he can’t go running off or start climbing the walls.

When they enter the room together and the Doctor sees Rose lying there with machines and tubes and all manner of paraphernalia hooked up to her he honestly feels like he could kill. Nobody should hurt Rose – ever.

“This.” he says through gritted teeth. “Is why. I hate. Guns.”

Jackie squeezes his hand a little tighter and a glance at her reveals that she’s crying quite silently. He squeezes her hand back, his anger dissipating slightly, and then they take a seat on either side of the bed and wait.

~*~

  
He’s still there almost a week later, waiting for her to wake up. The nurses have resigned themselves to setting up a camp bed for him but he refuses to use it, instead choosing to sleep in his chair next to her bed so that he can hold her good hand. If she wakes up when he’s asleep then he wants her to know that she’s not alone, that she’s got someone there holding her hand.

That _he’s_ holding her hand.

After the first night his lower back starts aching.

At six days they take out the breathing tube and within the hour she begins mumbling nonsense under her breath intermittantly. Jackie and Pete are there for the momentous occasion – Tony is being looked after by his nanny so he doesn’t get upset at seeing Rose in the hospital.

“She’s probably dreaming.” one of the nurses explains. “Sleep talking. She’s still on quite heavy painkillers but she’ll wake up when she’s ready.”

“Can she hear us?” Jackie wonders softly. Her usually racous personality seems somewhat diminished in the face of her daughter’s mortality. The Doctor knows how she feels.

“She should be able to.” the nurse assures them. “And even if she doesn’t really understand what you’re saying she should be comforted by the sound of your voices.”

Jackie nods and strokes the hair back from her daughters face.

“My baby girl.” she says tenderly then chokes on a sudden sob and before anyone can even make a move to comfort her she’s wailing openly. Pete goes to her and holds her grimly whilst the Doctor looks on awkwardly.

~*~

  
On the ninth day Jackie and Pete have to forgo their usual visit in lieu of attending the Vitex Christmas party. Rose makes little whimpering noises all day and the Doctor nearly goes out of his brain with worry, trying desperately to get the nurses to bring up the dosage on her drugs.

“She’s in pain!” he all but begs. “Just listen to her!”

“She probably just wants something.” the attending nurse says, bored.

“Yeah.” the Doctor snaps. “More painkillers.”

“I was thinking some lip balm maybe. Her lips are quite chapped.” At his glare the nurse merely rolls her eyes. “If she starts saying ‘morphine’ then we’ll take a look. Until then...”

The Doctor talks to Rose all afternoon, growing increasingly frustrated when he yields little more than the same whimpering and whispery moans.

“What do you want?” he asks softly again and again, thumb stroking her pale cheek. “Rose?”

“Mm...” she says softly and her voice seems a little stronger as she leans ever-so-slightly into his touch. “Mm...”

“I’m here, I’m listening.” he bends his ear close to her lips. “Tell me. Rose?”

“Mm...mum...”

And finally it comes out – clear as a bell (if a little raspy). The first coherent thing she’s managed to say since the accident and she’s asking for her mother. He should be overjoyed that she’s starting to respond to stimuli again but he’s simply not prepared for the sudden toxic anger and hurt that surge through him.

Pulling back he fumes silently for a moment. Who’s been sitting here with her day in and day out, not sleeping, barely eating out of worry? Who has aching muscles and stiff joints after sleeping in a chair for over a week? Certainly not Jackie bloody Tyler.

“She can’t come.” he snaps at her, but Rose has seemingly slipped back under already and inexplicably, he feels a wash of guilt for having snapped at her – even if she won’t remember it.

What the hell is wrong with him? Rose has been shot, she’s been fighting for consciousness for over a week now, her first request (subconscious or not) is for her mother and he’s getting angry at her? Once upon a time he would have leapt for joy and gotten Jackie in immediately. Now he feels almost...betrayed?

Oh now what the hell is that about? What a stupid thing for him to feel! And what a stupid thing to do – putting his own feelings ahead of Rose’s needs when she’s so fragile. True, he’s not the same man he used to be, but even when he’s been forced to stand by and watch other men drool and paw at Rose like she’s a raw steak (and it’s happened more frequently than he would like since he came here) he’s never felt such blindingly powerful jealousy before.

Is this a human thing he wonders – to be so jealous that her first thoughts aren’t of him? Logically, he wonders how he can possible begrudge her for loving and needing her mother just as much if not more than him. He’s been human for months now, struggling to control emotions far more potent than anything he’d ever had to try and repress as a Time Lord – but this is the first time he’s felt truly stupid for letting himself feel something.

After a final stunned moment in which he shakes his head at himself, the Doctor reaches for the phone and autonomously dials Jackie’s number. She answers so quickly that he’s not even sure if it gets the chance to ring at all.

“What’s wrong?” Jackie blurts. “Is she alright?”

“No, no – she’s fine,” the Doctor explains quickly before she gets hysterical. “But she wants you.”

“Oh my god!” Jackie’s voice rockets up so high that the Doctor winces and pulls the receiver away from his ear slightly so that he doesn’t lose his sense of hearing. “She woke up?!”

“Not...entirely no.” he reaches out and strokes the back of Rose’s hand with his as he speaks. “Can you come?”

“Of course I can come!” Jackie snaps as if she’s offended at the notion. “This is my _daughter_ we’re talking about here Doctor, who cares about some stupid party? Anyway Pete’s a big boy – he can handle this lot without me. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

There’s an abrupt click and then the dial tone begins to beep out its steady rhythm. The Doctor smiles as he hangs up and a nurse coming into the room baulks at the sight before returning the gesture.

“Well it’s nice to see you smiling for once!” she says as she sets about a routine check of Rose’s vitals. “You’ve been looking like death on a stick last few times I’ve been in here.”

He laughs at that, surprising even himself.The nurse looks pleased.

“She’ll be right enough once she’s woken up.” she tells him before she leaves. “Lots of physical therapy and all that but it’s not the end of the world.”

“Yeah well.” he drawls, smiling slightly. “Been there, done that.”

The nurse looks puzzled but smiles at him anyway as she leaves. Exactly eleven minutes and twenty three seconds later Jackie barges into the room, resplendent in a dark blue satin evening gown and sparkly snowflake earrings.

“What happened?” she demands, reaching for her daughters hand even as she appeals to the Doctor.

“She said ‘mum’.” he tells her simply. “Clear as a bell.”

Jackie goes out in tears instantly but her sobs mingle with relieved laughter as well. Once she has finally pulled herself together she wraps the Doctor up in a joyous hug and he squeezes her back as well. Really, he could get used to this – hugging Jackie. It’s better than getting slapped at any rate.

She stays until well after midnight but Rose doesn’t say much and when Jackie’s eyelids start to drop the Doctor lightly suggests that she go home.

“Suppose I should.” Jackie yawns, then turns to him. “Don’t suppose you want to come home for a night?”

The Doctor shakes his head, his eyes on Rose. “I think I’ll stay.”

“Yeah I thought you might. Thank you.” Jackie says as she hugs him (again). “Thanks for letting me know about Rose. And for taking such good care of her for me.”

“Oh, well...” he begins, hand jumping to his hair as it does when he’s uncomfortable. “I haven’t really done...”

“No but really Doctor,” Jackie interrupts him. “You might be a bit of a fruitcake but...well you love my daughter to pieces. Always have. I tell you – if she had to fall in love with an alien then I’m glad it was you.”

The Doctor blinks, touched. “Jacqueline Tyler, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Jackie smiles tiredly at him. “Goodnight Doctor.”

“And you.” he returns before settling down in his chair and taking Rose’s hand, carefully sliding his palm against hers and twining their fingers. “You know what?” he murmurs, half to himself, half to Rose as he lays his head down and settles down to sleep. “I think your mother might actually like me. _Or_ she’s been replaced by a Slitheen.” Rose’s fingers twitch reflexively against his and the Doctor smiles as he shuts his eyes. “Goodnight. My Rose.”

~*~

  
There is little change in Rose’s condition until the early hours of the twelfth day when the Doctor wakes up to a slight pressure against his fingers. When he lifts his head he meets a pair of tired hazel eyes.

“Hello.” Rose whispers scratchily and he sits up, instantly awake.

“Hello!” he returns gently and touches a hand softly to her cheek. Rose leans into his touch, the closest thing they have to an embrace for now and then manages a feeble, cracked-lip smile. “How do you feel?”

“Oh I’m brilliant.” Rose says as she takes in his appearance. “ _You_ look pretty awful though.”

“Says she who’s hooked up to twenty different machines.” the Doctor says dryly as he takes his hand from her face and Rose rolls her eyes weakly at him.

“How long’ve I been out?” she asks. “Must’ve been a while. You look like a caveman.”

Self conscious, he touches his chin. The growth there does seem abnormal. He hadn’t even noticed it really. “Eleven days.” he says finally. “Six hours and probably about...” he considers. “Nine minutes?”

She doesn’t look surprised at his attention to detail. “You’ve been here all that time?”

She’s looking more and more exhausted with each word. “You’re exhausted. You should go back to sleep.” he says hastily. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you...”

“You been here all that time?” she repeats, a bite of impatience in her voice.

Tugging at his ear he feels suddenly foolish. “Yeah.”

“Idiot.” she says fondly but she smiles at him anyway and then sobers. “What happened? I don’t remember much from...”

_Two bullets lodged in the scapula, one ricochet, broken bones, tissue damage. Enough blood to fill up a small swimming pool, hours of panic and days of sitting around just waiting, waiting, waiting..._

“Taqworps went home.” he avoids her gaze, runs his fingers along the edge of the thin hospital blanket. “Torchwood sorted it all out in the end. Just a misunderstanding.”

“Good.” Rose’s eyelids are starting to flutter now. “You should go home. S’Christmas soon.”

“So it is.” he remembers with a start. He’d almost forgotten, what with everything. “You’d better be out of hospital by then – your mother might baste me for dinner if I’m not careful.”

Her eyes are shut now but she can still smile. “Not enough meat.” she manages to whisper. “Too skinny.”

“Quite right too.” he responds softly as she slips back under.

When he’s certain she won’t wake again he calls her mother.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s 10.5 and Rose’s first Christmas together in the alt!verse – and what would the festive season be without Ten's unlucky tuxedo and an invasion of rogue aliens at the Torchwood Christmas party?

Sixteen days after the accident the Doctor is finally bullied into leaving the hospital for the first time since the accident. The Tyler residence is decked out in festive greens and reds – the sparkle of fairy lights and white sprigs of mistletoe all heralding the spirit of Christmas. The Doctor feels remarkably sombre in comparison as he showers and shaves. When he returns to the hospital Rose is wide awake and he has a lumpy parcel under his arm.

“What’s this?” she asks, still teasing him despite her condition. She’s been coming on in leaps and bounds (so to speak) and her spirit is unflagging as always. “You expect me to unwrap something? I’ve only got one working arm!”

Laughing, he unwraps it for her and then sets it down on the tray table in front of her.

“A snow globe?” she says, non-plussed.

“Not just a snow globe – a snow globe with a Christmas tree inside!” he says, very pleased with himself and Rose actually giggles. “Do you like it? I got it from the little shop downstairs. Good hospitals always have a little shop.”

“S’lovely.” she says, smiles as she reaches her good hand for it clumsily. He hands it to her and she shakes it, the synthetic snow fluttering in the water. “What’s it for though?”

“They want to keep you in until Boxing Day at least.” his voice is clipped and Rose is silent. “But I’m sure you knew that already.”

Her face crumples into an expression of anguished pity. “M’sorry.” she whispers. “I know you wanted me to be there. _I_ wanted to be there...”

“I know.” He says shortly, avoiding her gaze, and then jumps when he feels her hand cover his.

“Sorry I didn’t believe you.” Rose says softly.

“About what?”

“About unlucky tuxedos.” a smile softens the worry on her face. “I won’t do it again. Promise.”

A dry sob catching in his throat, the Doctor takes her good hand in both of his and then bends his forehead until it is resting on top. “Oh Rose...”

Rose pulls her hand carefully out of his grasp and lays it on his head, tangling her fingers into his freshly washed hair. He stays quite still as she gently musses his hair and it’s so soothing that he can’t quite bring himself to say any of the myriad of thoughts that are whirling around in his mind.

Instead he sits up a little, her hand stills in his hair but remains, and he places a careful hand on her leg, delicately spreadeagling his fingers like a spider on the thin blanket.

“I thought you were going to die.” he admits to her hip, his fingers smoothing along the grain of the fabric. “I saw you fall and all I could think was that you could be about to die and...”

“Doctor,” Rose interrupts him. “I’m not dead...”

“You nearly were,” he interrupts her right back, his voice sharp. “And I never even...we’re not even...”

“That’s...I mean there’s plenty of time for all of that.” Rose says dismissively but he can still hear the uncertainty in her voice.

“No.” he says, finally looking up and locking his gaze with hers. “There’s not.”

And try as she might, Rose just can’t seem come up with a decent argument against that.

~*~

  
Tony was attacking a piece of paper with crayons and Jackie was viciously untangling a large bundle of tinsel when the Doctor finally graced the Tyler’s informal lounge on Christmas Eve. He felt strangely detached as he stood in the doorway, fidgeting with the hem of the rather nice tailored waistcoat he’d chosen to don for the occasion. Truthfully he was getting sick of suit jackets and how uncomfortably hot they made him when he had to run anywhere.

Honestly – human bodies. Eurgh.

He hovered a moment longer, watching as Jackie muttered angrily at the tinsel and Tony nodded his spectacularly ginger head in time to the carols that were chiming from the CD player in the corner. The Doctor had grown used to being around Rose’s family from living with them of course, but on a day like Christmas Eve when she should have been there with him...he felt surprisingly lonely, even in company.

He’d been in to see her that morning, watched them take her through her first proper batch of physical therapy and then change the bandages. As far as her shoulder went she seemed to be healing quite well. The problem was that despite several blood transfusions, she was still very weak and prone to become dizzy if she moved about too quickly. As a result, her doctors had decided to keep her in for another few days to let her get her strength up.

All of which left the Doctor at somewhat of a loose end. Jackie had made plans for all of them to visit Rose in hospital first thing on Christmas morning but that still left Christmas Eve to get through without her. After lunch Rose had sheepishly admitted that she was quite tired from his visit and so the Doctor had kissed her softly goodbye on the cheek and ruefully taken his leave.

Upon his return to the Tyler household, he soon discovered that Jackie and Tony were immersed in a whole host of Christmassy traditions that didn’t seem to include his participation. After an awkward half hour of watching them he disappeared upstairs to tinker with his half-finished sonic screwdriver and wondered if he could get away with making some improvements to the decorations – namely the Christmas lights.

After several hours spent trying to distract himself from the inevitable, the Doctor had finally given up and headed downstairs again. The scene was almost unchanged from earlier – Jackie and Tony both too immersed in their Christmas routine to really notice that he was there. Despairing slightly now, the Doctor watched them from the doorway and wondered if the other Tyler’s were only really tolerating him because of Rose.

“Doct-ah!” Tony said gleefully, snatching him out of his funk. The child, having finally noticed him, had leapt to his feet and was now racing over, brandishing his latest creation. “D’you like my drawing? Iss for Rose for Christmas.”

It appeared to be a family portrait, complete with captions that stated the names of each of the pictures occupants. Mummy, Daddy, Rose, Tony and...

“Well.” the Doctor murmured, gazing at the wild brown scribble that was meant to represent his hair. “There goes that theory.”

A peal of bells interrupted Tony’s next question and Jackie huffed irritably.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and go get the door?” she shot at the Doctor. In true Doctor fashion however (and doubtless with a large serving of Donna as well) he stubbornly put his hands into his trouser pockets and eyed Jackie defiantly.

“Why can’t you get the door? It’s not my house.”

Jackie looked ready to murder him. Or at least stab him in the eye with one of the many plastic icicles that was waiting to decorate the Christmas tree in the corner. So much for their recent hug-based-friendship he thought dryly.

“Oh I’ll tell you _exactly_ why I can’t answer the door!” she said, moving slowly but menacingly towards him in her designer ugg boots. “Some _lump_ didn’t pack the tinsel away properly from last Christmas so now _I’ve_ got to untangle it. So unless you want me to strangle you with it-” she brandished it threateningly in his face and despite himself, the Doctor took a wary step back. “I suggest you get the door!”

“Alright!” he squeaked. Holding up his hands in defence, the Doctor skittered out of the room lest he die a very embarrassing death by tinsel.

The entrance hallway however, had already been breached by their visitors – let in from the cold by a stray maid who had stayed back several hours to help with the final decorations and preparations for Christmas Day in the Tyler mansion.

Pete, looking distinctly pink from the cold, was supporting a slighter figure clad in layers of heavy winter clothing. For one daft moment the Doctor wondered if Pete had gone to pick up somebody’s mother or maybe even an elderly aunt to share in the festivities – the person with him certainly moved like an old woman – but then she tugged her knitted cap off and her long blonde hair fell down onto her shoulders.

She looked slowly over at him and the Doctor caught his breath. For one glorious instant he was back on a deserted street, three in the morning with her beaming at him after so long, so long...and then he took one step forward, then another and before he even needed to run he was in front of her and taking her gingerly by the shoulders and pressing his face into her hair. Rose followed his lead, her good arm coming around his shoulders to complete their careful, joyous embrace.

“Happy Christmas.” Pete said, a wide smile in his voice. “I’ll just leave you two to...well.”

The Doctor vagueley heard footsteps subsiding and then Jackie’s voice ringing out a welcome to her husband from the front room, but he ignored them and breathed Rose in – her scent still distinctive even through the stench of hospital grade disenfectant.

“Hello.” she said, drawing back, eyes bright.

“Hello!” he returned, delighted. She smiled tiredly at him and then dropped her gaze, reaching out a curious hand to finger the hem of his waistcoat.

“I like the waistcoat.” she told him softly before catching his gaze again, still gently fingering the material. “Is this your new thing?”

He shook his head at her, dumbfounded and took her one good hand from the hem of his waistcoat and held it between his. “How?” he said hoarsely.

Rose flushed slightly. “You’re gonna yell at me,” she admitted.

The Doctor grimaced. “Ah. Better get it over with then.”

“Well they didn’t want to let me go at first.” she said, all in a rush. “But when I told them that I’d have a doctor monitoring me...”

“Wait, what? What?!” He gaped at her. “What’d you tell them that for? I’m not anywhere _near_ properly equipped to look after somebody who’s just been shot!”

“Well yeah but they didn’t know that.” Rose said, supremely unconcerned. “’Sides, I’d prefer to have you look after me any day.”

“I-you-but...” his ego swelled at her words but nevertheless... “Are you _completely_ mad?” he spluttered. “Or just partially deranged?”

Rose raised her eyebrows at him. “Being rude.” she advised him.

“Good.” he said flatly. “Because you’re being a complete idiot. Ooh...that was a bit too rude wasn’t it?”

Judging by Rose’s expression, he was right about that at least. “So...what,” she said aggresively, seemingly close to tears. “You’d rather I spend Christmas Eve – our first one together in who knows how many years – in hospital?”

“God no.” the Doctor breathed, tugging her hand gently towards his chest. “Never in a million year but _God_ you are daft sometimes.”

“You know I’d never leave you alone with mum if I could help it.” Rose said softly, tilting her head slightly in that coy way she had. She looked up at him for a long moment and then tugged her hand from his grasp to press it against his cheek. “I guess...well. Happy Christmas Doctor.”

“Yes,” he said. She looked tired up this close. A bit worn out and worse for wear but beautiful all the same. Even better, she was here with him when he had honestly thought she wasn’t going to be – and not just in one way – in so many, many different ways. He thought of his Time Lord self without her even now in a parallel world. And he thought of his own few months with her – the separate rooms, the careful dance they had led around each other. “It is.”

Rose smiled at him again and – _oh blimey_ – he really couldn’t help himself. He bent his head and kissed her.

_Oh._

Softly, so softly, their lips parted and then met again like they’d been doing it all this time. His head swirled dizzily for a moment (as it always seemed to do when he kissed Rose) and then finally settled again as her hand lowered from his cheek to curl delicately around the collar of his shirt as they kissed again...

And then a cry of delight interrupted them.

“Rose!”

The pair broke apart in shock. In the doorway stood a pop-eyed Jackie and the human cannonball that was Tony Tyler. Luckily the Doctor managed to scoop the boy up into his arms just before he ran headlong into his older sister and did her any more damage. Rose smiled at her brother and gave him a kiss in greeting before allowing her mother to fuss over her briefly.

The Doctor merely stood in a daze as he watched Rose simultaneously greet her mother and wave off her concerns about her coming out of the hospital too early.

“Like I’m gonna stay in hospital on Christmas Eve!” she scoffed and Jackie grumbled.

“Muuuuuum...mummy – how come they was kissing?” Tony tugged at his mother’s hand. “You can’t kiss without mistletoe.”

“Don’t mind them sweetheart,” Jackie said evenly. “They’re allowed to kiss each other without mistletoe.”

“They are?” Tony said wonderingly.

Ignoring Tony’s question, Jackie swung him up onto her hip, staring pointedly at the two of them as she did so. “You certainly took your time about it didn’t you?” she said airily. “Pete and me, we didn’t waste a second. First week here and I was already pregnant with Tony...”

“Mum!” Rose said, mortified and the Doctor scrunched up his face as he tried to put _that_ mental image out of his mind thank-you-very-much.

“What?” Jackie asked innocently as Pete stepped out of the doorway he had been loitering in and grimly took charge, carefully steering his wife into the lounge. “You two coming or what?” she called back over her shoulder at them.

Rose bit her lip in apology and then carefully reached out her good hand to the Doctor, wiggling her fingers invitingly. He took it without hesitation, their palms gliding smoothly against each other.

“So.” he said. “Christmas Eve?”

Rose smiled and nodded up at him. “Christmas Eve.”

“Reckon we’ll always be chasing aliens around at this time of year?” he wondered out loud.

“I think we will yeah.” Rose grinned slightly as they slowly followed the rest of her family into the lounge. “S’far as I’m concerned it’s not Christmas until there’s some sort of spaceship over London.”

“They are quite a rude lot aren’t they?” the Doctor noted as he helped her to sit down, fussing with cushions until he was certain she was comfortable. “Interrupting Christmas and all. Bit like an uninvited dinner guest really.”

“Well yeah. But sometimes a surprise guest can be a nice thing.” Rose smiled slyly.

The Doctor eyed her arm, heavily strapped and supported by its sling and was on the verge of saying something scathing about uninvited guests bringing guns instead of presents. Instead he merely said, “Merry Christmas Rose.”

Rose furrowed her brow at him but she was still smiling. “I think we already went through this in the hall didn’t we?”

“Well. Yes. But it can’t hurt to do it again can it?”

“Stupid acrylics!” Jackie snapped suddenly and everybody jumped. She had returned to the tinsel once again but was apparently still finding it impossible to disentangle with her festive nailart. “Does anybody else want to have a go at this bleedin’ tinsel?”

Pete looked stricken, Tony was engrossed in his drawing again and Rose certainly wasn’t in a fit state to be detangling tinsel. Which really only left one person up for the job.

“I will.” the Doctor reached out a hand for it and once he had obtained the offending strands from Jackie he began to work the knots out carefully and deftly. “You know,” he offered after a moment of expert detangling. “I could make a setting on my new sonic screwdriver for untangling tinsel. A tinsel untangler setting – ooh I like the sound of that. Tinsel untangler.”

Jackie’s eyebrows lifted in apparent interest. “How long would that take you to make?”

“Oh, well.” he conceded. “Maybe I could have it ready for next year. At the moment I’d probably just melt the tinsel.”

Pete chuckled at this and Tony leapt up to present Rose’s drawing to her. At the same time Jackie decided that since the tinsel problem was being addressed, what they needed now was a pot of tea and some Christmas biscuits. Rose put her good hand on the Doctor’s leg and squeezed gently before turning her attention to her brother and as the Doctor gently eased the tinsel into single strands he wondered briefly if maybe now that he was human he would finally get to enjoy Christmas – preferably without any more alien invasions.

“Shame really that aliens don’t celebrate Christmas,” he decided out loud and everyone stopped and stared at him. “It’d stop the invasions and I think that most species would rather like all the food you lot cook up.”

Rose stared. Pete stared. Even little Tony stared at the Doctor following this most profound pronouncement. Supremely unconcerned with their staring, the human Doctor began to hum along to the latest carol on the CD player and then set to untangling the tinsel again.


End file.
